


The Pelicans: A Private Showing

by huesofmay



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, NSFW, Oral Sex, Wholesome, blowjob, sam plays the guitar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:02:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24239968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huesofmay/pseuds/huesofmay
Summary: After a picnic date on the porch, Sam surprises his fiance with a special new song and the two enjoy an intimate night together.
Relationships: Sam & Female Player (Stardew Valley), Sebastian/Player (Stardew Valley), Shane (Stardew Valley)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	The Pelicans: A Private Showing

“I’ve been working on a new song,” he said between sips of Joja-Cola. He didn’t add anything else, but I could tell he wanted me to press the subject. 

I took the bait and asked, “What kind of song?” 

“Oh, something crazy. Off-the-wall, cuckoo-for-Cocoa-Puffs crazy. Like nothing The Pelicans have ever done before.” He was looking away from me, out into the moon-bathed rows of yams, cranberries, and pumpkins, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“Crazy, huh? Is this something you and Sebastian have been cooking up for the gig in the city?” 

His face flushed and he gave a nervous laugh. “Uh, no. Definitely not. It’s more of a…solo project,” he said. 

I cocked my head, my interest piquing. “That is new. Dare I ask for a sneak peek?” 

I sidled closer to him until I was pressed up against his side and leaned my head on his shoulder; he smelled like soap and drug-store cologne. I felt his whole body tense at our proximity and took a bit of fiendish delight in his discomfort.

He made a big production of considering the question, but I could feel his pulse quickening against my skin. “Well,” he drawled, “I suppose I could give you a quick taste, since I just so happen to have my guitar with me.” 

He heaved up to his feet and padded to the front door where his beat-up guitar case leaned up against the yellow siding of the house. He grabbed it by the strap and swung it onto one shoulder before returning to me. In one surprisingly suave motion, he dropped beside me on the edge of the porch and slung his free arm around my shoulder.

“I wondered why you brought that,” I said with a smile. “I figured you had a rehearsal after our date or something.” 

He pressed a kiss into my temple and reached around me to unlatch the case, pulling me into his lap as he did. Again, I felt his heart thrum a little harder, a little faster against my back. My body responded, and I felt sparks crackle through me like a jolt from a cattle prod. 

“I’m hurt that you think I’d let you be the opening act for my night.” 

He freed the acoustic from its moth-eaten velvet padding and shoved the case behind us on the porch. Holding its neck to his ear, he plucked a few strings experimentally. He made a face and adjusted a knob or two. 

“Oh? What does that make me, then?” I asked. 

“The headliner, of course!” Then, he leaned in close to my ear to add, “And I don’t have a thing planned after our date.”

I felt a shiver run through my whole body, and something firm pressed into my tailbone. I traced one fingertip up and down the curve of his arm up to where his hoodie sleeves had been rolled up as he tuned and said, “Oh, what a lucky girl am I.”

“That’s the spirit! I gotta warn you though, I don’t play for free,” he said. 

I craned my head around to look at him and saw a devilishly playful glint in his eye. I grinned and played along. 

“Oh dear,” I simpered, “I don’t think I have any cash here at the house…” I wriggled on his lap against his erection and heard him stifle a moan. “I don’t suppose you’d let me pay in services?” 

“I’m sure we can work something out.” He nipped at my ear and I gave a small, involuntary squeak. 

“But for now,” he said, setting his guitar aside and helping me scoot off his lap, “I believe I owe you a song.” 

He hopped to his feet and picked up the guitar while I settled my back against one of the porch columns to watch. He strummed a few chords, testing the tuning work he’d done, and then took the stage—or rather, the porch. Beyond the rich glow of the moon and a few torches, the air had grown dark and smudged the edges of him like the charcoal drawings Leah had shown me. I felt myself smiling like a high schooler at prom—I was so ridiculously in love with this man. 

He reacted to an invisible audience, bowing and waving off their adoration with a “Please, you’re too kind!” expression. Dutifully, I cupped my hands around my mouth and tried to make a sound like a distant crowd cheering. 

“Thank you so much, ladies and gentlemen!” he called to the nosebleed seats. He basked in my cheers for a moment longer and then silenced me with a gesture like a maestro cutting off a symphony orchestra. Then, he stepped up to an invisible mic on a stand. 

“Now,” he said in the husky voice he reserved for shows in the city, “We have someone special in the audience tonight—not that each and every one of you here aren’t special—but this someone, well, she’s special to me. She’s sitting right in the front row, just like she’s done for every show since The Pelicans got their start. Sweetie, you wanna say hi?” 

I feigned surprise and then gave a shy little wave to the imagined masses. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, my life changed the day this girl stepped off the bus in my hometown this past spring. It’s gonna change again in just a few days when I make this girl my wife. And tonight, this song I’m singing is for her.” 

I brushed away something wet on my cheek as he made a last-minute adjustment to his guitar. Then, he raised his head and started strumming a slow, gentle melody in a simple major key. As the song progressed, his fingers danced in a faster, more insistent tempo. There were no words, but I still understood what the song was about, and why he hadn’t shared it with his other bandmates. My body responded, sending little tremors down my legs. 

His face was a mask of concentration as the key modulated up and then up again. He was finger-picking a truly chaotic rhythm now, a technique I knew he had been practicing for the last several weeks. The guitar was acoustic, but I felt the song thrum in my body as if I were sitting inches away from a maxed-out amp. His hands were a blur, they were moving so fast, and the song careened toward a finish that felt nothing short of orgasmic as he struck the final chord with an exaggerated swing of his arm. I was on my feet and clapping before the last note wavered into silence.

Like a true rock star, he made a big show of kicking over his imaginary microphone, smashing his guitar into an invisible amp, and then making a grand, furious exit. Then, grinning, he dropped the acoustic into its case and grabbed the front of my shirt to crush his mouth against mine. 

“Did it rock?” he asked against my skin between kisses.

Breathless, I said, “It rocked. I dare say it even rolled.” 

“You really think so?” he asked. He pulled away to look me in the eye and I saw the vulnerability behind the desire. I smiled and cupped his face. 

“Sam, it was amazing! I’ve never heard you play with that kind of precision. Or that kind of passion. How long have you been working on that?” 

He gave a sheepish smile and admitted, “Since Autumn started. I, uh, guess I’ve been thinking about a night like this for a while. And I wanted to make sure I could play it perfect for you.” 

“Well,” I said, “I think I can say with confidence that it was. Perfect, I mean. I never saw a better show, even when I was living in the city.” I snaked my arms around his neck and nuzzled my head into the hollow of his throat. 

“Good.” He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. We stood like that for a moment, pressed together in the moonlight with the wind singing in the brittle leaves. Eventually, though, he relaxed his grip slightly, letting his hands come to rest at my hips. 

“Now, if I remember right, you still have your end of the bargain to uphold. And it just so happens that I’ve thought of the perfect way to for you to pay your debts,” he said. 

“Have you now?” My heart was hammering in my throat. 

He dipped me low and kissed me hard, only pulling away long enough to say, “Let me rock you for the night, farm girl.” 

Then we were on the paneled wood floor and his hands were on my body. Running over my face, my throat, my chest, my sides, clutching my hips with unabashed glee. I arched my back into his touch and buried my fists in the golden tangle of his hair. His fingers worked to untuck my blouse from my skirt and then his hands thrust under my shirt. The callouses on his fingertips built up from years of playing without a pick trailed over my superheated skin and sent little thrills though my body. A little moan escaped my lips as I wrapped my legs around his waist. I could feel his need throbbing through his jeans against me. There were too many layers between us. 

He must have had the same thought as well, because the next thing I knew, he was yanking my striped shirt up over my head to expose me to the autumn wind. I shivered and felt gooseflesh erupt over my skin; I hadn’t realized how chilled the night air had grown since we had finished our picnic. 

“Cold?” he asked with a little laugh. 

I nodded and folded my arms across my chest to warm myself. “What gave it away?” 

“I guess I’ll have to figure out a way to warm you up then,” he said with a wicked smile that sent a tremor of anticipation to my core. 

With that, he stood up and helped me to my feet before hoisting me over his shoulder like a sack of fertilizer. I cried out in surprise. Had he been working out with Alex?

“Sam!” I protested. “Our cabins are so close together, they’ll see!” 

“Let them,” he said. His voice was impish, but to my relief, he carried me toward the door of the cabin. He fumbled with the doorknob, trying to keep me balanced on his shoulder as he did and struggling miserably. Eventually, I reached down from his shoulder with a laugh to open the door for him and we stumbled into my living room. He let me slide to my feet so he could wrestle out of his hoodie. The light was better in here, and I had an excellent view of him now: his tussled blonde hair, the taut lines of his chest, the pronounced bulge beneath his belt buckle. Every inch of me hungered for him. 

Finally, he escaped from his t-shirt and threw it onto the floor. We stood staring at each other for a moment, and I was suddenly very aware of my small breasts, my soft belly, my wild tan lines. But nothing in his face conveyed disappointment. I saw only my own desire and anticipation reflected in his molten blue eyes. He took a tentative step toward me and brushed his thumb against the ridge of my collarbone. I leaned into his touch. 

“How did I get a girl like you?” he asked softly. 

Then, he slammed me against the wall. I cried out, but the sound was muffled by his lips on mine in another furious onslaught. With one hand, he reached behind me and unfastened my bra. He slipped the other beneath the pink lace cup to grasp my breast. Heat spread from his touch, making my toes curl into the carpet. His thumb danced around the erect pink tip of my breast and sent waves of pleasure through me. 

“You don’t know how good that feels,” I sighed. 

“You mean this?” He gave my nipple a gentle pinch and laughed as I shuddered. 

“Yes….”

With a mischievous smile, he slipped the straps of the bra over my arms so that I stood half-naked before him. 

He gave the pink lace in his hands an appreciative once-over and said, “This is cute.” Then, he tossed it over his shoulder and took hold of my tits with both hands. “I like it better over there though.” 

I didn’t have a chance to respond before he took control of my mouth again, his tongue dancing furiously with my own as he massaged my breasts. He broke away, and then his lips were pressing like hot coals to my jaw, my throat, my collarbone, and before I knew what was happening, his mouth closed around my breast. I jerked involuntarily, but his hold on me was firm as his tongue darted around my nipple. My body was bucking and railing at his touch, so I buried my fists in his hair and held on for dear life. His tongue moved faster on my skin and he mirrored the motion on my other breast with his fingers. I felt like a powder keg with a lit fuse; I had never known pleasure like this. 

I could feel his desire and impatience mounting as well. His tongue still working tirelessly, he moved his hand away from my breast and trailed it lightly over my skin, traveling down, down down…His fingers traced small circles of want on my leg where the hem of my skirt fell. I froze, my heart pounding. I felt him slip his hand under the purple corduroy and inch up the inside of my leg, but he stopped just at the edge of my panties. Was something wrong?

He lifted his head from my breast to look at me. 

“Is everything all right?” I asked. 

“Of course,” he said, “I just wanted to make sure…Is this what you want?”

I nearly laughed with relief. “Yes, Sam. You’re what I want.” 

“So you want me to keep going then?” 

“I think if you stop now I might combust,” I said truthfully. 

“Ok then. But remember, you asked for it,” he said with that wicked edge in his voice again. 

Then, in one fluid motion, he grabbed my wrist in one hand and pinned it above my head against the wall, wedging my legs apart with his knee. The hand under my skirt plunged inside my panties and I felt his fingers rub circles into my clit. 

“Yoba help me,” I yelped. It wasn’t long until I was convulsing against his touch. My legs buckled and I might have fallen were I not pinned in place with his full weight. But even after I came, he wasn’t done with me. I tried to reach for his belt buckle with my free hand, but he yanked it up over my head as well, adjusting his other hand to keep both of my arms immobilized. I might have been annoyed that he wouldn’t let me touch him yet, but I was too thrilled by being at his mercy to feel anything but want. Free from my interference now, he slid two fingers inside of me—deep inside of me—and began thrusting with the same frenetic insistence I had heard in his song before. We rocked against each other with primal need until I was screaming, wordlessly at first, and then his name over and over. This time when I came, he released my wrists and let me collapse, trembling, into his chest. 

“Was that all right?” he asked. I heard that soft touch of vulnerability in his voice again and smiled up at him.

“Sam, my love, I cannot even begin to tell you how all right that was.” I planted one chaste kiss on his lips and then let my hands slide down his chest to grasp the searing bulge of his erection. A little jolt of fear flickered in his eyes. 

“But I do owe you a debt, I’m afraid. And you should know by now that I’m very savvy with my finances.” 

I grabbed him by the shoulders and spun so that I was pressing him into the wall. I fumbled at his belt buckle and he scrambled to help me. He slid the belt off and moved to throw it in the direction of my bra, but I stopped him. 

“Ah ah ah, hold on to that,” I said, plucking it from his hands. “We might need it later.” 

His eyes widened and I stifled a laugh, remembering how in control he had seemed only moments ago. With his belt out of the picture, it was quick work to undo his fly and tug his pants and boxers down far enough for him to step out of both until he was standing naked before me. He was erect and pulsing with desire, but I took just a moment to drink in the exquisite details of his body. The angle of his hips, the fine trail of blond hair leading down to his cock. Breathtaking. 

I kissed him once, and then let my mouth trail down the side of his throat, over his chest and belly, until I was on my knees before him. 

“Ready or not, here I come,” I said before slipping his cock into my mouth.

He moaned as I flicked my tongue over and around his head and then yelped as I closed one hand around the base of him. Again, I had to stifle a laugh. His naivete was amusing, but I had work to do. My head bobbed up and down as I sucked him, all the while my hand following the motion on his shaft. I slipped my other hand around to grasp his buttocks and heard him moan again. Without breaking rhythm, I snuck a glance up at him and saw that his head was thrown back in pleasure, his hands scrabbling at the wainscoting for purchase. I picked up the pace slightly, taking him in all the way to the hilt so he felt huge in my mouth. 

He was saying my name now. I could tell he was getting close, so I went a little faster, a little harder, until he gave a final yelp and my mouth filled with something warm and salty. I swallowed, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and got to my feet with Sam’s help. He pulled me against his chest, both of us panting slightly. 

“Have I paid off my debts?” I asked, winding my arms around him. 

“I’ll have to check with my manager, but I think you’ve more than balanced your account,” he said. 

“Ah, thank goodness.” I heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. 

“Which means this next bit is just for fun.” 

With that, he scooped me up in his arms, bridal-style, and carried me down the hall into the bedroom we soon would share.


End file.
